You will feel a little prick
by Sternenfeuer
Summary: A story about how the Syringe Gun came into being, and how well its first test went. Also, a small reminder that Medic is a horrible excuse for a human being. Rater M for Medic (plus some violence, foul language, and general brutality).


Engineer knocked on the med-bay door. A muted grumble from the inside informed him that while their resident doctor preoccupies himself with something at the moment, he's willing to accept visitors without an intent to eviscerate them. Not right away, at least.

It was wise to proceed with caution nonetheless. Engineer slowly opened the door and peeked inside, prepared to dodge any potential random object (or an organ) thrown at him, and only when he spotted no signs of imminent danger, he entered the room.

"Hey, Doc," he greeted Medic's back hunched over the work table in the back of the infirmary.

An absent-minded "Mm-hm," was the only response he got. Engineer interpreted it as "Spit out what you want, or remove yourself before I'll lose my patience." However, his professional curiosity got better of him, and he moved to his colleague to look over his shoulder, forgetting about the problem he came here with in the first place.

"What'cha playin' with?"

A clutter of various parts and tools filled the desk in a system only Medic could understand. Three of his doves were nonchalantly pacing through the whole mess, pecking at random objects and sometimes even picking them up, moving them from pile to pile, or throwing them on the floor.

Despite his muttered curses every time he was forced to search for some needed part, their caretaker didn't seem to mind. He was long used to his little "helpers", and their questionable assistance couldn't break his concentration on a delicate lever system he was assembling.

Engineer stood on tiptoes and craned his neck to get a better look at the object.

The whole construction attached to the handle of the simple gun-shaped frame with a barrel fastened to the one side and a vertically set circular plate on the other. The handle itself was hollow and on the upper part, a metal tube and a valve were sticking out, connected to the base of the plate.

Engineer examined the components on the table closer and recalled that a couple of days ago Medic came to his workshop to discuss some details regarding pneumatic weapons.

"Do I even wanna know what that thing is?"

"Hopefully a decent solution for my current status of an easy target."

The grim undertone in the doctor's voice could only mean one thing.

"So she still won't let you out there with a proper gun?"

" _Nein._ She won't."

Engineer frowned. For weeks now, Medic led an intense war with the Administrator over her newly established rule that he, as a medical personnel, therefore (in a theory) a non-combatant, wasn't allowed to carry a rifle to the battle. This regulation left him with only his pistol and his modified surgical saw as a means of self-defence, and while he handled them both with a terrifying skill, it wasn't always enough to fight off pestering enemies who targeted him way too often lately.

Medic was certain it is a punishment for his stubborn refusal to share the recipe for his healing formula with his employers, but during his service in Reliable Excavation Demolition he witnessed so many suspicious information and blueprint leaks that cost their team a valuable advantage over the BLU, he preferred a wrath of the Administrator over seeing his precious invention in the hands of the opponent.

It was a small miracle the Administrator eventually gave up on her attempts to pry the secret out of him (most likely because she hasn't found a strong enough leverage that would make Medic cooperate yet), but in the meantime, she made sure this act of insubordination won't go without consequences. With the BLUs' outrage over the rival team getting the upper hand expressed mostly by attempts to murder the man responsible for it, this act of hurt pride made the Medic's job a lot more complicated. Despite that, he was hellbent not to yield.

While he wasn't happy about this clash of egos that could cost their whole team, Engineer knew better than to argue with him. Still, the Administrator's lack of concern about the life of the man who kept the whole team alive worried him.

"She's a mad one, ain't she?" he sighed. "She should be happy ya save ol' Redmond a fortune on supplies and replacements, yet she would rather let those dang BLUs chase ya down like a rabid dog just to have the last laugh... and we can't be always there to cover ya."

"No need to remind me." Medic shot him an annoyed glance and run his fingers over his upper arm, where under the sleeve a small reddish spot marked the entering point of the bullet he took just yesterday. "But I've been warned that should she catch me to 'accidentally' find a shotgun somewhere one more time, there will be... consequences I'm not comfortable to risk."

"So what'cha supposed to do?"

"Well, I asked her the same question. Her answer was, and I quote, 'just stab them with needles or something,' unquote."

"Right..." muttered Engineer. "And then what's this?" he gestured to the strange gadget in Medic's hand.

"The 'something'."

The sneer on the good doctor's face made Engineer sick in his stomach a bit. Either the Administrator forgot how deviously creative this man can be, or she was expecting with a morbid curiosity what he will come up with this time.

Ignoring the uneasy expression of his teammate, Medic focused his attention back on the trigger mechanism which kept refusing to run smoothly enough.

Five minutes and some fiddling with screws and connection rods later, he finally smiled, reached for the capsule with compressed air and slid it into the hollow in the handle.

Engineer took a step back when Medic pulled the trigger a couple of times, examining the bursts of air shooting out of the barrel with the soft spitting sound, sending all objects and doves in their path flying.

The doctor chuckled. _"Ja, das sieht gut aus... das sieht sehr gut aus."_

He almost purred with satisfaction. He then picked up what Engineer assumed was a drum magazine: a clear plastic cylinder about 10 centimetres in length and a diameter, with a perforated disc on one side. Only now the mechanic noticed several long, thick needles set into it around the circumference.

"Oh God..."

Medic pushed the magazine into its seating until it clicked. He spun the cylinder to both sides to make sure it's not stammering, pointed the gun at the wooden cabinet on the other side of the infirmary, and fired three rounds.

Needles flashed through the air and stuck into the wood with a hollow thud.

Both men hurried to the cabinet to examine the damage.

"Very nice," cackled Medic upon checking how deep the needles burrowed into the surface of the target, and with some difficulties pulled them out.

"It's... cute," remarked Engineer, "but... are ya sure it'll do any good? I mean... y'all need to hit the guy in the eye or a neck or somethin' to really hurt him, right?"

He was half expecting Medic to get irritated by his lack of faith, but the doctor just laughed. It was the kind of laughter that makes your skin crawl and your stomach clench. Engineer flinched when Medic patted his shoulder.

"You are absolutely right, mein lieber Freund, or, to be precise, you would be right, hadn't those needles were filled with a very potent toxin of my own recipe," he pointed at the drops of a bright yellow liquid oozing from the punctures. His eyes behind his glasses gleamed with a spark of a madness.

Engineer just sighed. After all, what else could he possibly expect?

"Look - oh come on, don't be like that, it's just a testing liquid to see how well the piston in the cartridge works," Medic calmed his startled teammate when Engineer recoiled from the needle he passed to him. "It's perfectly safe!"

After the two months on the same team with the RED's resident mad doctor, Engineer knew better than to touch anything Medic claimed to be "perfectly safe", so he settled for an inspection of the needle from a sensible distance.

Connected to the bottom of the needle sat a tiny plastic cylinder serving both as the pushing point for the air burst, and a toxin cartridge a content of which was injected into the target by the force of the impact.

"Are ya sure this thing ain't breakin' some kinda war laws or somethin'?" Engineer frowned, sure that Medic's new toy legitimately classifies as a biological weapon.

The doctor shrugged. "So does targeting medics. And from what I've heard, one of my counterpart's predecessor was using a poisonous gas as a weapon, so I'm not too worried about this little toy crossing the line."

"So just how -" Engineer began, but the crash of the doors flying open cut him short when another biological weapon known as Scout stormed in the infirmary, face glowing with delight.

"Hey, guys, you won't believe who Demo caught sneaking 'round the base!" And before any of his teammates could reply, he blurted: "That whiny little BLU fucker who thinks he has a shit on me! Wanna give him a couple'a punches? If so, you better hurry, he's half dead of fear already."

 _"Wunderbar!"_ Medic's eyes lit up. "Tell them not to kill him yet, I have something I would like to test on a living subject."

"Oh. Ooooohh, gotcha, ya sick bastard." Scout shoot him finger guns with a chuckle. "I'll tell 'em, but don't be long."

Scout run off and Engineer turned to Medic who danced to the table to switch the testing magazine for the one with the cartridges filled with a dark red content. Deep inside the mechanic felt sick. Sure, he loved the members of the opposite team about as much as any other RED and when the opportunity to beat the hell out of someone arose, he was happy to offer a helping wrench, but he couldn't shake a feeling that unleashing Medic on a prisoner should be qualified as an excessive cruelty, especially when his psychopathic colleague has "something to test".

A bark of laughter accompanied by the click of the locked magazine told him he's right. On the other hand, it was still better than Medic testing his infernal toys on the members of his own team.

Without a word, Engineer followed the doctor to the yard where the rest of the mercenaries formed a circle around the captive.

The BLU's condition indicated his enemies used this rare chance to settle the score for the past conflicts, some with the present Scout himself, some with the BLU team in general. The youth was covered in cuts, scrapes, and bruises, and his head hung limply with blood dripping off his nose and chin. His left leg was fractured and if his laboured, wheezy panting was any indication, so were several of his ribs. Heavy and Soldier each held one of the Scout's arms and argued over the minimal amount of force needed to rip them off.

The BLU paid little attention to them or the mockeries and occasional blows REDs were throwing at him. Knowing all too well he has no chance to escape, he reconciled himself with an inevitable fate and waited patiently for the final blow.

"Oh my, poor boy... you definitely look like you need a medical attention."

The gentle, concerned voice snapped the Scout out of his lethargy. He jerked his head upwards and the moment his eyes focused enough to recognise the RED Medic looking down at him with the kind smile on his lips, the captive's pupils grew wide and his swollen face wrinkled in terror. A strangled howl escaped his chest when he began to thrash and writhe himself in his enemies' grip with a newly found strength.

Forgetting for a moment about his broken jaw, he screamed.

"No no no no no! Not him! For the love of God, not him! No. No! I will - I will do anything! I'll give you anything you want! I - I know plans! Secrets! I can tell you shit about BLUs that will blow your mind. Anything. Anything! Just - just call that fucking psycho off!"

Most of the words were slurred and soon his voice shattered as he struggled to gasp for breath.

The REDs roared with laughter. Only Medic stood calm, still with that eerie smile that was making the Scout nauseous.

"Are you afraid of me, boy?" Medic's voice sounded sincerely confused, hurt even. "But why? Isn't it you who is walking around shouting how so very intimidating I am for using a gun that shoots medicine?"

"Oooh, this will be rich," grinned Spy.

I was barely a week since Medic clashed with the BLU Scout on the battlefield in an encounter that didn't turn out very well for the former. The Scout caught him by surprise in a tight spot where Medic took cover with a badly injured Demoman to treat his wounds. Out of an ammunition and with an unconscious patient to protect, he had little chance to take that little imp down by himself. Before Pyro got there to chase the attacker away, the BLU shot Medic to the leg, broke his arm, and only his helmet saved the doctor from a fractured skull if not from a concussion. None of those wounds would be that bad, hadn't the Scout severely damaged the Medi Gun as well. It took Medic and Engineer several hours to fix the device, which nearly cost Demoman and Sniper their lives, not to mention they lost the battle that day.

"I - I'm sorry, okay? It was a joke!" sputtered the Scout, a lump in his throat growing even larger.

Medic raised an eyebrow and pulled out the gun prototype from behind his back. "Really? Well, I hope you will still appreciate I took your observations to the heart."

The light coming through the clear plastic of the magazine shimmered on the needles stored aside. Several members of his own team cringed at the sight and retreated a step or two. The BLU Scout yelped and pulled away from him as far as the grip of his captors allowed.

The smile on Medic's face widened as he raised the gun and spun the magazine a couple of degrees. The clicking sound of the rotating gears felt to the Scout like a wet finger running up and down an exposed nerve in his spine. He shivered and opened his mouth, but his throat was so tightened he could utter nothing more than a whimper.

Medic let his amiable mask slip for a second, revealing dark, chilling grin underneath. He has been dreaming about this moment for days, and although he hoped to encounter the bastard on the battlefield to gut him like a rabbit, this was the next best option. He will not only get his revenge but the proper data about the exact effects of the toxin as well, without the need to risk the trial run during a combat.

He turned back to the Scout, who was now shaking uncontrollably, sweat running down his face. His voice jumped up by an octave as always when he was excited about something.

"And since you have been so helpful with suggestions, I'm certain you will enjoy an opportunity to help me to test this device!"

"Please... don't..." sobbed the Scout.

He knew he will die; it was the risk that came with the title, but he hoped for a quick - if painful - death by a bullet or a broken neck. Even being beaten to a pulp beforehand was better than being left for the RED Medic to do whatever his sick brain came up with this time. Not even bodies torn apart by a grenade provided such a gruesome sight as the remains of the men who had the misfortune to encounter that psycho in one-on-one combat when Medic was done with them. Not even the pain of the broken bones could distract him from horrifying pictures popping up in his mind, depicting the worst scenarios of his last minutes he could imagine.

Medic gestured to Heavy and Soldier to release the captive. They let go of him and hastily stepped back to get out of the way of whatever their doctor had in mind.

The Scout crumpled to the ground, the sharp pain in his broken leg forcing a cry out of him. But in a few seconds, he collected himself and with all of his remaining strength he started to drag himself away from Medic as fast as his mangled body allowed him.

Amused by the BLU's desperation, Medic followed by sauntering steps like a hungry scavenger waiting for his victim to draw its last breath. Except in his case, he needed the Scout to live for a couple more moments.

"Can you stop it? You will only exhaust yourself further and increase your heart rate too much to provide a reliable data," Medic asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

The Scout glared at him through his bruised eyelids. "Well sorry for not being all eager and shit to be your fucking lab rat!"

He deeply regretted the RED took all his weapons. We would gladly shoot his own brain out just to ruin the freak's fun.

It was the laughter from the rest of the team what prompted him to stop his attempts to get away, more pathetic than effective. He was doomed, sure, but he didn't have to embarrass himself in front of those assholes even more as well. He sat still, wiped the blood trickling from his broken nose, then turned to face Medic who was watching him with a faint interest.

"Go on then, you fucking butcher," the Scout snarled at him, his head held high. "Just fucking do it already."

"Don't worry, boy. This will only hurt... A LOT," grinned Medic, took aim at the Scout's upper body and pulled the trigger.

Needles hit the flesh with a sickening hiss, followed immediately by an inhuman shriek from the Scout's mouth. Screaming and howling, his body twisted in convulsions strong enough to tear the muscles and ligaments and snap the bones.

The RED team watched in morbid fascination mixed with horror and disgust how the captive twists into shapes defying all limits of the human anatomy as if possessed by a demon crumbling his body from the inside like a piece of paper. His shriekes soon turned into rattling gurgles as his shredded lungs desperately tried in vain to fill with air, while a thick yellowish foam mixed with blood gushed from his nose and mouth. His face turned an interesting shade of purple and his eyeballs, rapidly becoming red by a blood oozing from burst capillaries, rolled inside his head, hiding the suffering mirrored in the Scout's dilated pupils.

After fifteen seconds both the violent convulsions and harrowing groans ceased and the Scout's body went limp. The BLU was dead, still twitching now and then as the accumulated tension was leaving his muscles.

The silence fell in the yard. Mercenaries were glancing between the corpse and Medic who knelt down to it for a proper examination, not sure how they feel about the scene they just witnessed. Half of them hit the ground when Medic lifted the gun again, although this time just to remove the magazine to prevent any unplanned casualties.

Engineer was the first to regain his ability to speak again.

"What in the name of God is your problem?" he faltered in a raspy, shaking voice.

Medic glanced at him over his shoulder. His eyes were cold and his tone even colder.

"What is my problem? People who won't let me to do my job at peace and who target those I'm sworn to protect from further harm are my problem."

"I know, but this... this is just inhuman!"

"But very effective. A bullet may hurt you, but more often than not it won't kill or even incapacitate you. This, on the other hand..." he pulled one of the darts out of the dead BLU and admired it for a moment, "this will cause the same reaction regardless of the part of the body it hits."

"Yeah, but... but..."

"Let it be." Spy patted Engineer's shoulder and smiled at the distressed man. "You will get used to it. In the meantime, just be glad he's on our side, n'est _-_ ce _pas, Doctéur_?" he grinned at Medic, who replied with a faint, smug smile.

Engineer opened his mouth a couple of times and closed it again without making a sound. His eyes darted between the two senior mercenaries for a few seconds before he shot them a searing look, turned his back on them and left with his hands shaking.

"He will be fine," Spy said with a shrug. "He knew exactly what he's getting into."

Medic didn't seem to care either way. He just nodded and reverted his attention back to the corpse.

"Hm... a pity Scouts make for poor testing subjects," he mused, stroking his chin. "They are too light and their metabolism is faster in general, and this one wasn't in the best condition to begin with. I'm curious what the same amount of the substance would do to, let's say, an average Soldier in a good health, or even a Heavy..."

Noticing his distant look fixed at something behind the backs of the rest of the team, Demoman blurted:

"I bet we could catch one when they come lookin' fer the wee brat, aye, lads?" he turned to the others. "Can't be that hard. What do ye say?"

Overeager nods from his comrades followed, as the better part of them began to retreat from the effective range of the Medic's new toy.

Medic beamed.

"Could you do that? That would be _fantastisch!_ Very well, if you manage it, let me know. I will be in the infirmary, I want to take a look how exactly the toxin affects the body. I wager this young man's organs will provide the most interesting sight now!"

He slung the lifeless body over his back and headed to the base. After a few steps, he stopped again as a sudden thought occurred to him.

"Oh. And I should start work on the antidote. You wouldn't want any... accident to happen."

A choir of various displays of agreement followed by a stampede answered him. A note he will let them know when to come for the vaccination was already delivered to the thin air.

Slightly perplexed, Medic looked around the empty yard, then shrugged and whistling a cheerful tune, he returned to the med-bay, wondering why Engineer actually visited him earlier.


End file.
